Waiting Up
by big tears
Summary: Narcissa waits for Lucius to return from a... "business meeting". I'd say it's not as bad as it sounds, but that really depends on your opinion.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**A/N:** This story was inspired by the song _Pads, Paws & Claws_ by - you guessed it! - Elvis Costello. The italic-y bit right before the actual fic is an excerpt from the song. Lucius and Narcissa are my favorite married couple ever! I'd say _fictional_ married couple, but we all know the HP universe really exists... right?..._Right?_ *grins* Ciao, and enjoy! ^_^ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_He's coming home now  
Here's the surprise  
You wouldn't believe the lies that he tries  
She cuts him down to her favorite size  
She pads, paws - pads, paws and claws._

  
It was late. Nearly four in the morning. She sat primly on the bed, her pale, pedicured foot bouncing up and down in frustration. How many times had she told him...? How many hours had she wasted lecturing and threatening him, only to find herself sitting in the exact same position yet again? How many nights had she envisioned wrapping her fingers around his throat and finally ending this problem? And almost _every_ blasted night, he came home drunk, stoned, and sorry (or so he said. There was a very big difference between what he claimed in a fit of terror and intoxication, and what he actually felt - if he felt anything at all).

  
She was beginning to grow weary of this, and had narrowed down the possibilities of her husband's whereabouts. Either he was:  
1.- On his way home  
2.- Lying, unconscious, in the street  
3.- Or snogging some young hussy he had met at a pub

  
Her foot-tapping grew more impatient.

  
Half an hour later she was carefully inspecting her fingernails and trying to guess what his excuse would be this time, when he staggered through the bedroom door. She sneered to herself as she looked up at him and nonchalantly commented, "Why Lucius, darling... I was beginning to think you weren't ever coming home,"

  
"Narshissa," he slurred, leaning on the doorframe for support as shock completely overwhelmed what was left of his mental state. 

  
She stood slowly, her long black satin nightdress falling around her as she crossed her arms across her chest. She glared at him. "Lucius, what have I told you about going off at night?" She sounded eerily like a mother reprimanding a very disobedient child.

  
"Er..." he muttered, running his hand through his disheveled hair. 

  
"_Not to_!" she shouted, pale pink rising to tint her white cheekbones with rage. "_Honestly_, Lucius! When I married you, you weren't this big of a... a... a _blasted prat_!"

  
"Narshissa," he began again, blundering a few steps towards her. "I shwear, it wash jusht a bushness meetink! McNair _made_ me do it, I promish!"

  
She laughed darkly. "Oh yes, Lucius, I believe you." she droned, rolling her eyes in a Holier-Than-Thou fashion. "And wasn't it McNair that forced you to go clubbing last month? Didn't _he_ trick you into hitting on some of your son's female acquaintances?" He attempted to take her by the shoulders during this accusation, but found his eyes were not working properly. He ended up clutching nothing but thin air between his spindly hands, looking very bewildered as to where his wife could have gone.

  
She took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his over-priced shirt and shove him up against a bedpost. "This has got to end, Lucius," she whispered vehemently, staring angrily into his bloodshot gray eyes. "and it's got to end _now_."

  
"Narshissa..." he replied, his voice - usually so powerful and controlling - quavering slightly. "Shissa, I'm blasted _sorry_..."

  
He leaned forward enough to brush his lips against her nose, sending a tingling through her body. She swallowed. _Not again,_ she thought bitterly as her grip on his collar loosened considerably. He smirked at her, kissing her mouth now.

She pulled back and sighed, turning away from him. "I hate you." she muttered tersely, trying to ignore the sneaky feeling of his hands sliding up her bare arms and drawing lazy circles on her shoulder-blades.

  
"I know," came the quiet reply, a smile in his already smug tone. 


End file.
